No, it wasn’t because the weekly pastor’s message was full of hellfire and brimstone. Instead, it was the story at the top of the page referencing the 90th anniversary of Lutheran Social Services of North Dakota in Fargo.
Along with the story, there was a 1957 picture taken of a North Dakota map with the outlines of the counties. Within the county boundaries, individual squares are seen.
The picture was taken at the 20th annual meeting of the North Dakota Lutheran Welfare Society, which later became LSSND. The squares within the county borders represent individual children who in 1956 were placed in foster and adoptive homes, along with receiving services at the Svee Home that existed at the time.
I am one of those squares. I was born in Fargo and 14 months later was adopted to be raised and educated in Grand Forks. In the 30-plus years I’ve worked in the media, I’ve written a number of stories and columns about adoption. The last time I wrote about adoption was about seven years ago when state adoption agencies started charging for health information and if you wanted to conduct a search for your birth parent.
This also is about the time that some states started passing laws that completely opened adoption files for people to review. Needless to say, much has changed since I was adopted so long ago.
Almost every time I would visit with adoption agency staff for stories, regardless of the state, I would briefly tell my story. Every individual I visited with consistently said given the era in which I was adopted, there’s at most one or two pages of information in my personal file.
That’s a stark contrast to today, where reams of information are gathered and adoptions now often involve full disclosure and birth parent visitation of the adopted child. I know from visiting with couples who have adopted in today’s more open atmosphere that risks are still very real for parents who are adopting. In some cases, the birth parent retains rights to change her/his mind several months after the child is with the adoptive parents.
Many people frowned upon adoption years ago and I’m sure there are still people who have that mindset today. I am very fortunate in that my family of grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins were always overwhelmingly accepting of me, despite the lack of a direct bloodline.
My physical stature always caused people to do a double take as I was growing up, as I stood 6-feet tall by the time I left grade school. The top of my mother’s head barely reaches my chest, while my father is about 5 feet 9 inches standing against my 6 feet 4 inches. When asked the question “Where did this one come from?” the answer always was “string beans.”
I’ve never had a burning desire to search for my birth mother, which some people find to be downright amazing. I can honestly say I’ve also never had a hang up from being “adopted,” which I again credit to my extended family.
Looking at that picture of the state map with the squares in the counties, however, I found to be a bit ironic given my personal history. It’s very possible I was held by one of the seven women pictured alongside the map.
Since I was more than a year old at the time I was adopted, someone in the North Dakota Lutheran Welfare Society jotted items about me in a “book” to document my health history, likes and dislikes, physical advancements and other personal observations.
When I was adopted, my mother was given the book and added her own notations about me for a period of time. I was given this book years ago and keep it in my briefcase with other important documents.
Needless to say, a lot has happened since then. There obviously is always going to be a very special place in my heart for Lutheran Social Services. Who literally knows what would have happened if I hadn’t been placed in its care.
Here’s wishing Lutheran Social Services a very happy 90th anniversary.
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